


From the Past-A Future

by genagirl



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: AU, Gen, Past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 02:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genagirl/pseuds/genagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>William is sure Naomi and Blair will be in his sons future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From the Past-A Future

From the past - a Future

By Gena 

 

"……….your stinking capitalist hands off my son." The voice, strikingly melodious, feminine and angry, echoed off the sterile white hallway. William Ellison turned and watched in amazement as David Kershaw, VP of Ellison Enterprises went head to head with a small, red-headed dynamo. She wore a gauzy dress of lavender and the tickle of her bracelets and necklaces filled the air. If it hadn’t been for the streak of blood on her sleeve and the cold expression on her face she would have been mesmerising, as it was she was merely breathtaking. David said something more to the woman, his hands raised in a placating gesture but she was having none of it. 

"David?" William moved towards them, unsure exactly what was happening.

Kershaw looked up and the consternation on his face was easily readable where Ellison stood. With a withering glance at Kershaw, the woman she spun on her heel and marched straight towards William. "Please, Ms. Sandburg," David was hissing, "this is not a good time for Mr. Ellison."

"I don’t care," the whirlwind snapped. She stopped and stood staring at William with and expectant gaze.

"Can I help you?" William tried for an icy politeness but something about her kindled a spark of real concern. It could have been the blood, though she hardly seemed injured but more than likely it was the tiny boy bobbing along in her wake. He couldn’t have been more than five and his wide blue eyes possessed a kind of wisdom far beyond his years. William found himself comparing this impish looking moppet to his own son and a shiver passed along his spine.

"You’re William Ellison?" William nodded. "I’m Naomi Sandburg and yes, you can help me. Tell me why you’re laying off workers who can’t feed their families?"

"Please, Ms. Sandburg," Kershaw interrupted. "You need to see a doctor for that cut and Mr. Ellison is in the midst of a family crisis." 

She faltered at that, the anger in her face softening but not disappearing entirely. 

"My son," William explained softly. "My son, Jimmy, is in a coma." 

"I’m sorry," the woman said and reached out to touch her own son’s curly head. The small boy moved to her side, but stared up at William. "I didn’t know.’

"Are you all right?" William asked.

She nodded. "I was part of the protest group and when the pigs……cops marched in one of them knocked me into a window." 

A nurse arrived. "We need to get you cleaned up," she said with a gentle smile. 

"Come along, Blair," Naomi said but the little boy pulled away.

"I want to see Jimmy." His voice was clear of any childish mannerisms, he spoke with confidence.

"No, baby," Naomi said. "Jimmy is sick, he needs to rest."

"No." Blair moved to William’s side and took his hand. "Jimmy wants to see me." 

William crouched, bringing himself down to the child’s level. 

With a start he realised it had been along time since he’d done this with his own sons. Time slipped by so quickly anymore, all it seemed he had time for was earning a living so that Stephen and Jim had all they could every ask for. "Jimmy, is asleep. He won’t wake up, kiddo." 

"He’s running in the jungle," Blair insisted.

William studied the deep blue gaze, instinctively brushing at the thick brown curls which gaze the boy a mischievous air. He knew Jim would like this kid, Jim had a knack with children younger than himself, they looked up to him. "Okay, we’ll look in on him." He rose and turned to Naomi. "I’ll watch Blair while you get that taken care of. And when you’re done, we’ll talk." He saw the flicker of hope in her eyes and smiled.

Leading the way into the private room where Jimmy lay, William had second thoughts. Maybe Blair was too young for this, a five year old shouldn’t know that even children got sick and sometimes they didn’t get better. "Blair," he squatted again, pulling the boy around so he could look directly into the calm gaze. "Jimmy can’t talk to you. 

He won’t know we’re here with him, so don’t be scared."

"I’m not," Blair assured him. Blair pulled away. Moving without hesitation, he walked to the bed, dragged the chair up beside it and climbed onto it. For a long time he merely looked down at Jim and William wondered what it was he saw. Himself, he saw his greatest fear. He’d tried to protect his eldest son, to make him tough, to make him ignore the things which no one understood. Seeing or hearing things other people couldn’t would not make him fit in, William knew this. He didn’t want Jimmy to be the object of ridicule so he’d been hard on the kid. And still it hadn’t helped. Jim continued to exhibit signs of his odd abilities, they were coming less and less often but now he had no control. In recent months William had begun to hope whatever it was about Jim’s senses was going away but three days ago, Stephen had found a prism.

William sat down opposite the hospital bed, not really seeing either the little boy staring so intently or his own son lying so still. In his mind he saw the spray of light around the room, heard Stephen’s delighted squeal and Jim’s quiet appreciation. The boy’s had played with the prism for no more than a few minutes when Stephen began calling Jim’s name. His unease turned to abject terror when Jim collapsed like a broken toy, eyes wide but unseeing. William, dread a black thing in his gut, had scooped his son up, left Stephen with their housekeeper and rushed Jim to the hospital. He didn’t tell the doctors about what Jim could do, but silently prayed they would find some way to bring him back from where ever he had gone.

A small sound, a sing-songing voice cut through his reverie, Blair had taken Jim’s hand in his and some crazy little tune was spilling from his lips. William watched it all with the urge to snatch the child away, to let Jim lie there in peace. But whatever the kid was saying seemed to resonate in the air. It almost vibrated on the tiles, filling the air with a heavy presence. Out of the corner of his eyes William saw movement, he turned his gaze toward it and for a split second swore he saw a small black feline shape and a rangy gray puppy tumble over each other in their dash out the door. 

"D-dad?" William spun back around and froze. Jim was staring at him, a confused look on his face. "What happened?"

"You don’t remember?" Jim shook his head. 

"It ran away," Blair said with a shrug. He was looking over his shoulder in the direction the phantom animals had taken. "It won’t come back for a long time." He looked at Jim, who smiled, and let go of his hand. Jim reached up to tug at one of his curls.

"What’s your name, Chief?" William started. Jim hadn’t mentioned Bud since the funereal, it was almost as if he’d forgotten it all; the man, his death, the humiliating interview with the police. But that nickname - it sent another shiver down William’s spine.

"Blair. I have to go." He climbed carefully down from his perch and trotted towards the door. In the doorway he stopped and stared back at Jim. Giving a little wolf-like howl, he ran down the hallway, laughing.

"He’s a strange one," Jim whispered. 

"Yeah, I guess he is. How do you feel?" William resisted the urge to hug Jim to his chest, settling instead for a fatherly pat on the arm. 

"Okay, I guess. What’s wrong with me?"

"You don’t remember anything?" Jim seemed to search inside but could only shrug. "You don’t remember staring at the prism?"

"Why would I do that?" Confusion filled the boy’s face. "All I remember is a dream - a jungle rose around me and I couldn’t get out." He stopped, frowning for an instant before adding, "a little wolf came along and led me back home." William didn’t react. Already the image of the two animals was fading from his memory. He searched his son’s gaze eagerly, and felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Always before there had been something - some deep shadow within the boys eyes but it was gone. Maybe their nightmare was over and Jim would be just like everyone else. Maybe this was the last bit of the strangeness dying inside him. William closed his eyes and sent a silent thanks to the child, Blair, who had come along at the right time and saved his son. God willing, this would be the end of it all.

"Get some sleep, Jimmy," William ordered. "I’ll take you home tomorrow." His son nodded, eyes already sliding closed. William watched over him for a few more minutes then went to find Naomi and her son. 

"They left," Kershaw told him. "Just before you came out, that kid was jabbering a mile a minute at his mom and then they just walked out."

William moved to a huge glass window and looked out over the city. A flicker of memory almost reached him, of looking out like this and seeing for miles and miles, but he pushed it away with a ruthlessness unmeasured. With a hopeful heart he turned and walked away, leaving his son to dream of the jungle. And of Blair.


End file.
